


What Happens in Vegas ....

by dramady



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Bradam - Fandom, brad bell - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-02
Updated: 2010-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:59:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b>  Brad came to Vegas to see Adam. Adam came to see Brad.</p><p><b>Authors' Notes:</b> For my bb, Jeck! <3 OTP for the win, bb! I also took liberties, implying that Orianthi's band was at the Vegas show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens in Vegas ....

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.

Vegas! So _gaudy_. That must have been why Brad loved it so much. The drive across the desert, not so much, but coming upon the mirage that was Las Vegas was always something that made him smile, made excitement prickle the skin at the back of his neck.

Mandalay Bay, too, was the place that had the amazing pool and everything. Of course, the stage where Adam was to be performing was _ridiculous_. So Vegas. And was there any surprise that Brad would be in the Media Suite? Of course not. Granted, he had _no_ interest in the TV that was bigger than himself, but that was beside the point.

He was in the room all of five minutes, just enough time to unzip his bag and take his toiletries to the bathroom when there was a knock on the door. Brad padded over, barefoot, to peek through the peephole, then he pulled the door open, just enough to stick his head out. "Should I know you?" He said, unable to bite back his grin.

"Open the door already," Adam laughed, pushing at it until he could slip inside. "Someone might have seen me."

"What, and you left without your heinous wig and hat? Oh no!" Brad shut the door and turned to lean against it. "Hi, superstar."

After taking in the room, Adam spun to face Brad. "Hi." All Brad had to do then was crook his finger at him and he walked closer.

The first kiss was like 'hi' all over again, a little tentative as they got to know each other's taste again, but after that, it was like old hat, like old habits that refused to be broken, like muscle memory of where to touch and just how.

Being with Adam always was easy. And good; don't forget good.

"You've lost more weight," Brad noted as he pulled Adam's briefs away, letting them fall somewhere on the floor. "Getting downright skinny, lover."

"Not skinny, fit." Adam rolled up to reach for Brad, grab him and pull him down on top of him, a leg hooked around his hips to keep him there. "You're skinny. God, you feel so _good_."

"You haven't gotten laid in a while, have you," Brad commiserated, pecking kisses at Adam's mouth, his weight braced on his hands. "Don't worry; I'll take care of you."

"I missed you," Adam whispered and he rolled them so that he was on top, hips already rocking as he nuzzled into the hollow of Brad's neck.

It seemed fitting that with some finagling and the addition of a coffee table, Brad could brace himself against the window that looked out over the Strip, eyes slitted with pleasure as Adam pushed inside him. He let his chin drop to his chest for that first push, getting used to, all over again, the size of Adam's dick. He hummed out a sound, one hand back, fingers digging into Adam's ass to urge him _deeper_. "Yeah."

"Oh, fuck," Adam hissed, his own hands wrapped around Brad's hips to push in deeper. "Oh, _fuck_."

"Try not to come all at once," Brad teased, a glance thrown over his shoulder. "I want you to fuck me for a long time."

"No promises; it's been a while, remember?" Adam's laugh was throaty and breathed out. "I don't know why we couldn't do it in the bed."

"Because this is sexier."

"And more - oh, _God, yes_ \- narcissistic." Adam slapped his hips against Brad's ass before he started to move in long, slow strokes. "Knowing you, you want to suck me off right next to the stage curtain."

"But then they couldn't see my _face_." Brad grinned again, teasing, his head back now, pushing off the glass to lean back against Adam's chest. "I still love your dick best of all."

"Flatterer."

Then there wasn't any real talking of substance, aside from moans and groans and calling each other's names, cursing, that sort of thing. There was the mess on the glass that they should wipe up. But later, after snuggling in the big bed. "No wet spot this way," Brad noted, and he could feel as well as hear Adam laugh with his ear pressed to Adam's chest like it was.

"Why didn't I think of that," Adam said, kissing Brad's hair.

After a moment, Brad propped himself on one elbow and gave Adam a good look-over. "Your roots are showing," he noted, tracing along the base of Adam's hairline, then down his cheek. "But you look good. Are you good?"

"I'm good," Adam answered, giving Brad a soft smile. "I'm glad to see you, not just because of .... But I'm really glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you too," Brad told him and kissed him. They could talk then, like they never could really when they were a couple, about mundane things, big things, life things and things like Brad's ongoing quest to be a superhero. "I'd make a kick-ass superhero."

"I know you would," Adam agreed, just as earnestly before bursting out laughing. "I have no doubt you'd have the best costume, at least."

"And that's half the battle right there, if history and Comic-Con tells us anything."

"You went, I still can't believe it. How bizarre." Adam laced their fingers together, pulling their arms around Brad's waist.

"It was totes bizarre, but wonderful too. A celebration of life. No Burning Man, but the same kind of fervor to it."

Adam's phone buzzed then. "I have to go - soundcheck and interviews and stuff," he sighed, so Brad sat up and pulled Adam up too.

"You'll be amazing tonight and then we'll fuck again before you have to leave on your bus."

Pouting just that tiny bit, Adam asked, "promise?"

"I always keep my word." And Brad kissed him to seal the deal. That way, he could usher the star out of his bed and away and Brad could wipe off the window and sit and look out over the city for a while before getting ready.

Adam never failed to make Brad thinky. And where best to think but a suite twenty-seven stories in the air overlooking neon and desert? If that didn't make one profound, Brad didn't know what did.

Backstage, Brad conned his way into trying on the tophat and had Sutan take a picture of him with it, then he put it back, making small talk with all kinds of people, even the cute little guitarist who was shorter than Brad was, who kept bouncing on the balls of his feet like he was waiting for Brad to throw something he could fetch. Cute! Monte and even Tommy, cute, vacant Tommy (somehow Brad didn't really doubt that Tommy might be in birth control - his complexion was fantastic).

"Your show is ridiculous," Brad told Adam when he came out of the shower. But he was grinning from ear to ear. "I love it."

Adam grinned, toweling himself off. "Not too bad, huh?"

"Nope." Crawling off the sofa where he'd been sitting, Brad stripped Adam's towel away and knelt between his legs. "Performing did always make you horny," he smirked, stroking Adam fully hard before sucking him down. He always had loved Adam's fingers in his hair.

There was no time for a trek back to the Media Suite. A few more kisses and Adam had to pack his bags and face the screaming masses on his way to more desert.

Brad told himself that he didn't miss Adam, but he knew a lie when he saw one. Besides! There were casinos to explore, buffets to make fun of, there was sauntering to do. There was a twitter party to watch and smile at (if that wasn't a sign that Adam was feeling better, Brad didn't know what was).

There was a drive back across the desert to make. There was a text message to answer along the way as well. _I love you_ to which the obvious and true answer back was _I love you too. C U soon._

Behind his sunglasses, Brad watched the landscape go by and he smiled. "What happens in Vegas," he sing-songed to himself. Wouldn't stay in Vegas. And he was okay with that.


End file.
